


Moving In

by Writing-Classic-Rock (writingfanfic)



Category: Tom Petty (Musician)
Genre: F/M, Moving In Together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-22 02:57:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13157787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingfanfic/pseuds/Writing-Classic-Rock
Summary: For the prompt: 'Can I request a tom Petty Imagine where the reader moves in with Tom and is nervous at first but Tom goes so out of his way to make sure they feel welcome because he doesn’t want them to be nervous/worried?'You move in and it is nice.





	Moving In

You stand in the entrance hall, jaw set as you look around. This place is hardly unfamiliar to you – you’ve arrived here at all hours, cried in here, laughed in here, run through here to get out to a train or inside to the warmth. But… now… it’s yours, you suppose. In a way. It’s yours…

You hear a faint voice from upstairs.

…and his.

“Yeah. No, it’s okay. I’ll call you back. Busy day.” You hear the upstairs phone being put back, and you fidget nervously; then the door opens, and Tom appears on the landing above you. His face splits into a wide grin. “Hey, honey.”

You wave shyly, and he makes his way down the stairs, almost as hesitantly as you feel; but when he reaches the bottom, he wraps you up in his arms, and you clutch onto him gratefully. This –  _he_  – feels like home.

“All my stuff is outside in a van,” you say, and he smiles at you, those light eyes crinkling. “Uh… I was going to start hauling it inside, but…” You shrug, swallowing nervously. “Uh… where?”

“Anywhere. We’ll sort it out,” he says, easily, and then pulls you close again. “Just get it in here first, okay?” He kisses you, and you feel your skin tingling. You can’t believe it, you’re actually moving in with him. “I can’t believe it.” Glad to hear the feeling’s mutual.

“Tom,” you breathe, quietly, and he smiles at you, stroking your face gently.

“I am so lucky that you did this. And I see what you did,” he says, quietly. “I know how far this move was for you.” You nod. Your family is far away, and you have to say, the level of approval for you moving in with a famous musician was pretty low – “Are you one of those groupers?!” your mother asked, and you could have laughed – but you don’t care. You really don’t.

“I’m here. I just… I’m here.”

“I cleared out one of the rooms upstairs.” He shrugged. “I mean… I know we’re gonna be sharing a room, but I figured you’d want your own space. It’s just somewhere you can go if… you know, I have people over. Or you can just go.”

“Thank you,” you smile, and his smile grows.

“I’m just grateful you wanted to be here.” He exhales. “I was so, so nervous you were gonna say ‘no’ or turn around and back out because… I mean, I know I’m busy a lot of the time.” You shrug, and kiss his nose; his cheeks flush, and he steps back. “Come on. Before you’re distractingly cute. Come and see the room.”

“But my stuff-”

“Can wait, they can wait outside for a few minutes, they’re still gonna get paid.” He takes your hand and leads you upstairs. You know where his bedroom is – heheh – but he guides you past it, to a room that you remember was mostly full of guitars, not that that doesn’t describe 90% of Tom’s house. He opens the door, and you smile widely.

“It’s a spare room as well. In case you have friends over, you know. Not fair for you to put up with all my people.” It’s nice – it’s empty and has been painted white, with a desk set up for you and a bed at one end of the room. There’s plenty of things you can do with this room, you think, and you feel touched that he thought of you. He could’ve just cleared out some space in the attic. “I just… want you to feel happy.”

You turn around, and hug him tightly. You are scared. You are petrified, in fact. But with him there, you might just be okay.


End file.
